<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>his kiss still thrills by asterismal (asterisms)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26023474">his kiss still thrills</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterisms/pseuds/asterismal'>asterismal (asterisms)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Immortals [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - The Old Guard (Movie 2020) Fusion, I don't make the rules sorry, Immortals, M/M, voldemort is a soft bastard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:34:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,396</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26023474</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterisms/pseuds/asterismal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Voldemort—Tom—whatever he’s calling himself this century—turns to face the doorway, and a smile breaks over his face. Harry thinks it’s massively unfair that the sight of that smile can make his knees weak even now. “Hello again, my love.”</p>
<p> <br/><i>Harry and Voldemort are immortals who reunite after a thousand years.</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Voldemort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Immortals [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889719</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>841</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>his kiss still thrills</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The title is from Joe’s declaration of his love for Nicky in The Old Guard, which was so stunning and healing to watch (to think, my gay little self used to be sustained on fanon and scraps, and now <i>this)</i></p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>"This man is more to me than you can dream. He's the moon when I'm lost in darkness, and warmth when I shiver in cold. And his kiss still thrills me even after a millennium. His heart overflows with a kindness of which this world is not worthy. I love this man beyond measure and reason. He's not my boyfriend. He is all, and he is more."</p>
</blockquote>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The text comes while Harry is out on a grocery run.</p>
<p><em> There’s a weird guy in our house, </em> it reads. For a moment, Harry only stands in the center of the aisle, staring down at his phone.</p>
<p>Then he calls Ron. “A weird guy?” he asks.</p>
<p>“Mhm,” is all Ron deigns to say. He hears shouting in the background, identifies Hermione’s voice and another. “He says he knows you.”</p>
<p>For all that Harry has lived a life longer than most people can conceive of, has interacted with more people than any normal human could meet in a lifetime, there aren’t many who can claim to actually know him. His eyes narrow. He looks down at his basket; he puts the only item in it—a pack of biscuits, Ron’s favorite brand—back on the shelf. </p>
<p>He says, “I’ll be right there.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He enters the house with his gun drawn.</p>
<p>Hermione is waiting for him near the entryway. “He’s back here,” she tells him, leading him toward the back of the house with her knife in hand.</p>
<p>“You left Ron alone with him?”</p>
<p>“He insisted I come meet you—figured you’d drive yourself mad with worry otherwise.” She grins at him over her shoulder, teasing, “He was right, wasn’t he?”</p>
<p>Harry snorts. “When you consider what happened the last time I came back to a stranger in the house…”</p>
<p>“That was <em> eighty </em>years ago,” Hermione protests, and Harry just knows she’s rolling her eyes at him. “Are you ever going to let that go?”</p>
<p>This time, it’s Harry’s turn to tease. “Never.”</p>
<p>Finally, they reach the study. Hermione enters first, and Harry follows, only to freeze in the doorway when he sees the man standing at gunpoint in the center of the room, his hands raised as if to show he isn’t a threat.</p>
<p>“Vee,” he says, feeling like the breath has been knocked from his lungs.</p>
<p>Voldemort—Tom—whatever he’s calling himself this century—turns to face the doorway, and a smile breaks over his face. Harry thinks it’s massively unfair that the sight of that smile can make his knees weak even now. “Hello again, my love.”</p>
<p>“You actually know this guy?” Ron asks, incredulous. “Who is he?”</p>
<p>“Who <em> am </em> I? Voldemort asks. He looks as though he’s gearing up for a fight, but then he settles and say only, “I’m the love of his life.”</p>
<p>Harry feels his cheeks heat at the words, at the way Voldemort stares, his gaze like a physical weight as it drags over his body. “I do,” he says, choosing to ignore Voldemort’s declaration. “He’s like us.”</p>
<p>“He is?” Hermione asks, her eyes wide.</p>
<p>“You mean neither of you attempted to kill him when he just randomly showed up here, asking for me?”</p>
<p>“No!” they chorus.</p>
<p>Harry supposes that’s progress. “Huh.”</p>
<p>“Times have changed,” Voldemort tells him, and Harry’s gaze gravitates to him again, as it always does. “I’ve found that killing people you’ve just met is frowned upon, these days.”</p>
<p>“To be fair,” Ron says after a beat, “I think it’s always been frowned upon.”</p>
<p>Voldemort shrugs, unbothered. “If you say so.”</p>
<p>Harry moves closer, circling him. Voldemort preens under his gaze.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong with his eyes?” Hermione asks, interrupting. When both of them turn to look at her, she lifts her chin, refusing to be embarrassed. Harry is certain she’s blushing, but her dark skin hides it well.</p>
<p>Only, now that she mentions it—“Actually,” he says, stepping even closer to get a better look at Voldemort's irises, which are a deep red, “what <em> is </em>wrong with them?”</p>
<p>Voldemort raises his brows and asks, “Have you forgotten so soon, my love?”</p>
<p>For a moment, he’s confused. Then he takes a startled breath as he remembers and closes the last of the distance between them. He lifts one hand to trace the skin beneath Voldemort’s eye, and Voldemort leans into the touch. “After all this time?”</p>
<p>Voldemort lifts one hand to capture Harry’s and lace their fingers together. “Are you surprised?” he asks. “Your magic has always been strong. Why shouldn’t it last?”</p>
<p><em> “You </em>did that to him?” Hermione asks, sounding both fascinated and a bit disturbed.</p>
<p>Harry clears his throat, uncomfortable.</p>
<p>He tries to pull his hand back, but Voldemort doesn’t let him. “I did,” he says.</p>
<p>“When?” Hermione asks. “It couldn’t have been after you met us.”</p>
<p>“And <em> why?” </em>Ron adds.</p>
<p>Harry opens his mouth to answer, then closes it, surprised to find—“You know what? I actually don’t remember.”</p>
<p>“But…” Ron sputters. “You <em> cursed </em>him.”</p>
<p>Voldemort sighs at them. “While I appreciate the offense on my behalf,” he drawls, using his hold on Harry’s hand to tug him closer, “I’m certain I deserved it.”</p>
<p>"Probably,” Harry agrees with a helpless grin. “You were awful back then.”</p>
<p>“Only back then?”</p>
<p>“Give it time.” He looks away from Voldemort long enough to see that Ron and Hermione are staring. He decides it doesn’t bother him. “We’ve only just reunited.”</p>
<p>“Why hasn’t it healed then?” Hermione interrupts before they can get too caught up in each other, eager enough to learn more about their existence that she easily ignores the tension between them. “I thought we could heal from anything.”</p>
<p>“From any injury, yes,” Harry tells her, “but this was magic. This was a curse.”</p>
<p>“And a fine one at that,” Voldemort says, and he actually sounds proud of the fact. Somehow, Harry isn’t surprised. “It stole life after life from me; for years, the pain of resurrection was all I knew. Even after it ceased killing me, it changed me.”</p>
<p>Harry tilts his head back and squints up at his handsome face, tries to remember what Voldemort looked like the last time he saw him, when the curse was new. He finds he can’t remember the details, but he knows it couldn’t have been pretty. “Well,” he says, “at least you got your face back.”</p>
<p>“Eventually,” Voldemort says, his eyes gleaming. “I fought the healing, you see. The pain was the last thing I had of you; I kept it as long as I could.”</p>
<p>“Sap,” Harry accuses, fond.</p>
<p>Voldemort doesn’t deny it. He only says, “For you, always.”</p>
<p>For a long moment, there’s only silence.</p>
<p>“Wow,” Ron says eventually. “That’s so fucked up.”</p>
<p>Harry laughs, too surprised to hide it.</p>
<p>Voldemort looks profoundly offended. “Incidentally,” he says, glaring at their audience, “that curse is why you’ve never met me. It wasn’t enough to curse me with endless death; no, my love saw fit to abandon me.” He turns back to Harry then, holds his gaze. Harry wonders how he ever forgot the devotion he sees there. “For centuries, I’ve searched. I thought you’d hide from me forever.”</p>
<p>Harry is shaking his head before he's finished.</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t,” he swears, though he supposes he’s done nothing to show it. Perhaps all those millennia together made him complacent—too sure of their love, too willing to let it lie. “Are you angry with me?”</p>
<p>Voldemort softens for him, as he always does. He curls one hand over Harry’s cheek. The other, he uses to take hold of his waist as he bends closer, pressing their foreheads together. “Perhaps I was, but now... How could I be?” he asks. “How could I, when I have you here before me? When I have you in my arms?”</p>
<p>“Well, then," he says, and he doesn't even try to hide the grin that spreads across his face, "I suppose I won't ever leave them again.”</p>
<p>He expects laughter. Instead—</p>
<p>“Good,” Voldemort says, achingly sincere, his voice soft as he closes the last of the distance between them.</p>
<p>Voldemort kisses him, and it feels like coming home.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Later, he feels Voldemort smile against his lips and draws back, confused. Voldemort doesn’t let him get far before he says, “Those children of yours are gone.”</p>
<p>Harry looks around the room, startled. He didn’t hear them leave, but. Well. He figures he can’t be blamed for being distracted. Then the rest of what Voldemort said registers, and he rolls his eyes. “They’re <em> three hundred </em>years old,” he says. “I’d hardly call them children.”</p>
<p>Voldemort tsks. “Semantics.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be mean. They probably left to give us privacy.”</p>
<p>“How generous of them.” Voldemort walks him backward, until he can crowd Harry back against the wall beside the now closed door. “Whatever shall we do while they’re gone?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading! you can find me on tumblr at <a href="https://being-luminous.tumblr.com/">being-luminous</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>